


And live my life alone (forever now)

by buttercupvanity



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: F/F, Feelings, Grief, Nightmares, all of that typical mourning stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 02:22:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20220220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttercupvanity/pseuds/buttercupvanity
Summary: She shakes gently, hoping to shake her right out of whatever nightmarish visions she’s experiencing right now, but Vanessa either doesn’t feel it or doesn’t care.She tries again. “Ness?” Her voice sounds rough even to her own ears, worry laced intrinsically into the single word. “Babe, wake up, you’re having a-“A shudder runs through Vanessa, suddenly, the feeling reverberating right through Charity’s bones from where their skin meets. The sobbing ceases, but the pained expression on Vanessa’s face lingers. A heartbeat passes, maybe two, and nothing escapes Vanessa except a few shaky breaths before finally...“Dad?”





	And live my life alone (forever now)

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's been a while... almost a year, really, since I've posted anything and I don't really have any excuses for that apart from school but I _finally_ got inspired again so! Here we are!
> 
> Enjoy this (or don't) because who knows when the next one will be :D

It comes as a whimper in the middle of the night.

Charity’s half asleep, eyes closed and breathing shallow, when the sound registers in her brain.

For a second, routine kicks in and her barely conscious mind writes the disturbance off as she would at any other time. It’s an emergency night time call out, that’s all, the likes of which Vanessa has to deal with irritatingly often. For a second, the devastating events of the day before are forgotten and normality has returned. For just one fleeting, glorious second, the pain is past and gone.

Then the drowsiness fades and she forces her eyes open, facing the surrounding darkness as her brows knit slowly together.

There’s silence as she listens out for something, anything. The usual quiet of the Dales remains intact as her heart beats steadily in her straining eardrums, and Charity’s almost convinced that all is well until she hears it once again.

A faint whimpering sound, coming from over her shoulder.

Her blood runs cold as she props herself up on one elbow, peering through the shadow at the source of it. Vanessa’s face is crumpled, anguish etched into every line. Despite the sheet of darkness draped across them both, she can see the sweat beading on her forehead, which - Charity discovers upon reaching out to stroke it - is clammy to the touch.

She stretches behind her and flicks on her bedside lamp, seeking its comforting golden glow to hopefully lull both her nerves and her fiancée into a sense of safety and security. Turning back to Vanessa, her heart drops, taking in fully the sight of her falling apart.

She’s so clearly, deeply, in pain; everything she won’t allow herself to feel or show throughout the day escaping in her sleep state. It’s like an oncoming flood. Charity can only watch in devastating empathy as Vanessa lets out a sob, the accompanying tears flowing down her face soundlessly and free. She’s shaking, Charity notes, shivering despite the perspiration forming on her skin.

Swallowing around her now bone-dry throat, Charity reaches out to grasp Vanessa’s arm, noting the way her fingers slide and clutch desperately at the sheets by her side.

She shakes gently, hoping to shake her right out of whatever nightmarish visions she’s experiencing right now, but Vanessa either doesn’t feel it or doesn’t care.

She tries again. “Ness?” Her voice sounds rough even to her own ears, worry laced intrinsically into the single word. “Babe, wake up, you’re having a-“

A shudder runs through Vanessa, suddenly, the feeling reverberating right through Charity’s bones from where their skin meets. The sobbing ceases, but the pained expression on Vanessa’s face lingers. A heartbeat passes, maybe two, and nothing escapes Vanessa except a few shaky breaths before finally...

“Dad?”

Her heart stops. It’s the softest, most heartbreaking utterance Charity thinks she’s ever heard. Vanessa’s eyelids flutter, like she’s trying to wake up, like she’s so almost there. Her chest heaves, lungs hungry for oxygen, and Charity watches her brows draw closer together, whispering one more time into the air.

“Dad... is that you?”

Confusion holds Charity in place for a second because, of course it isn’t her Dad waking her up. Forgetting the fact that he’s dead - they both saw proof enough of that yesterday in front of their very eyes - the idea that it would be Frank come to rouse her from her sleep baffles her. When would that ever be the case in the past, anyway?

It hits Charity, then, like a full body collision, an image of a 10 year old Vanessa being woken gently for school by her father every morning, loving him still, _trusting_ him still. Until, one day, she didn't.

The innocence of the image brings tears to her eyes. For the whispered retellings she’s been trusted with of the little girl Vanessa was, before he betrayed her in the worst way. For the love and trust that lay buried and broken for years, until he came charging back into her life, and slowly, slowly pieced it all back together just to tear it all back down again as soon as it finally repaired.

It would be easy to hate him, in some small part, for that. But she can’t, if she’s to be there for Vanessa. She knows, she's got to instead fill that woman’s little head up with so much love for her father that she almost forgets she’s supposed to be grieving him. Until the good memories of the past far outweigh whatever heartbreaking future her mind can conjure up without him.

She looks at Vanessa’s face, so devastatingly hopeful, and exhales slowly. She shakes her one more time, feeling it register at last, before murmuring gently, “No, babe, I’m sorry. It’s me.”

Vanessa’s eyes flutter open, shining with tears and blinking through the light. They’re wide as they dart around the room for a few seconds as if searching, hoping, before glancing once at Charity and quickly away again. She swallows and shuts them tightly, and Charity begins to wonder if she’s trying to fall back asleep and just _forget_ when they open cautiously and meet her own.

Her breath is still coming quick as their eyes lock and, for a few moments, they just stay like that. Taking each other in. Vanessa’s eyes are a deeper, vibrant blue than Charity usually observes, grief filtering them a whole new shade of pain. Then, Vanessa’s face drops a little and she speaks.

“I... didn’t really believe it was him.”

It’s uncertain, whether she’s telling Charity or trying to tell herself, but it doesn’t really matter. She just nods in response, and sees the acknowledgment resonate gratefully with her fiancée. Encouraging her to _talk_.

“He was right there.” Her voice is a strange juxtaposition between rough and borderline emotionless, the grief both making itself known and burying deep as she gets the words out. “In my dream, I mean. He was right in front of me again.”

With a sharp ache in her chest, Charity squeezes the arm she’s still holding onto tightly. Vanessa continues.

“We were back at the...” She falters, clearing her throat, urging herself on. “The factory. We were back at the factory and he was right there, walking towards me.”

“All I could see was his face, Charity, smiling back at me, and - he looked relieved!” She shakes her head, violently, as if she’s trying to shake the very idea out of existence. “He was _so_ sure he’d made it out alive, so sure that he was safe.” Her lip quivers. “He almost was. It’s -“

There's a beat of deadened silence, then she continues.

“He... He should have run. Why didn’t he run?”

She looks up into Charity’s eyes, that deep blue gaze searching desperately for any logical explanation as to how her Dad was here one second, gone the next. 

She’s searching _Charity_ for answers. As if there’s something she can do. Seemingly ignorant of the fact that, if there was anything _to_ do, she would have done it by now. There’s nothing Charity wants more than to take that pain away for her, to explain it away, to make it all better. If she could pull Frank bloody Clayton out from beyond the grave and claw some form of life back into him, she would, without hesitation. But she can’t. All she can do is try to pick up the pieces of the woman he shattered and left behind. And not for the first time, either.

But, of course, she can't say any of that. Not when Vanessa's staring at her like she _does_ hold the power within her to make things okay. Or even just hurt a little less. So she just returns the gaze, lets love soften her eyes and nods once slowly, readying herself to speak at last.

"He should have. We know that, now, and babe if I could go back in time and tell him that, believe me, I would. But I can't and I'm sorry but you're driving yourself crazy with all of these _what if_s, Ness. Listen to me, he wasn't to know what would happen next. None of us were." She sighs, reliving the moment it all collapsed. "That explosion was the last thing any of us were expecting."

As the word explosion crosses her lips, Vanessa crumples once again. Charity reacts immediately, leaning across to take her in her arms and hold her tight, rocking her gently as she sobs.

“I’m sorry... I’m so, so sorry, Ness, oh God.”

Her body is limp against hers at first, and for a second Charity thinks she’s going to try and rob herself of this too; deny herself a hug the same way she’s denied herself any emotional grief at all the past few days. But then she feels arms come up and wrap around her in return, holding tightly. Desperately. She hears Vanessa sobbing over her shoulder and she feels a wave of relief wash over her. Finally, something. She’s _feeling_, at last.

They stay like that for a few minutes, until Vanessa’s sniffles become far less frequent and she’s stopped shaking quite so violently in Charity’s arms. She sniffs and pulls herself back again, and Charity gives her her space, all the while staying close enough that she's still right there to comfort if need be.

Vanessa straightens up, the detached look back on her face as she clears her throat again. “I just... wish I could tell him. It’s not safe yet, keep going, don’t be such a flippin' idiot... He -” The words stick as her eyes swim with tears again, but she continues. “He was so close. He was _so_ close.”

"I know. I know, babe, I do. I wouldn't wish seeing what you had to see on anyone, not my worst enemy. What happened... It was brutal. And I wish more than anything that I could change that for you, Ness."

She sees the words sink in with Vanessa and she nods, knowing it to be true.

“I know it seems like forever away now, but one day, you will start to feel better. The pain will still be there, 'course it will, but you’ll learn to live with it. Without him.” She watches Vanessa’s eyes start to well up again. “But you can only get to that point if you allow yourself to feel. You can _do_ that around me, Ness. You know that, right?" She lets out a dry, self conscious laugh. "God knows I broke down enough around you last year.”

Vanessa quirks the corners of her lips up in what's probably meant to be a smile, but it's weakened significantly by the haunted look still on her face.

“So, please don’t ever feel like you have to bottle it all up and stay strong - not even for Tracy. I know she’s your little sister, but babe, he was your dad too. You’ve got to let it out at some point, and I’m here. I’ll be right here whenever you need me, okay?”

Vanessa’s eyes fall shut and she nods, slow and measured this time, as her lip trembles. Charity can see she’s oh so close to breaking but, for once, she doesn’t push it. Instead, she shifts down the bed and switches off the lamp once again, wrapping her arms around her tight.

She stays like that until the crying stops, until Vanessa’s muscles release their tension as she drifts back to sleep.

Charity knows she may wake again. Tonight, and any other night. She knows it might happen every night for the foreseeable future.

It doesn’t scare her, or make her reevaluate their relationship. It doesn't make her doubt their life together one bit. In fact, she's never felt more secure in her love.

Right here, with the woman she adores asleep in her arms, the only thing scaring her is how much she’d give up if it meant she could take her pain away.

And Charity's determined. She's going to try the very best she can.

**Author's Note:**

> Any feedback is very much appreciated. Thank you!!


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